 |
London
William Blake
I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear.
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning church appals;
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace walls.
But most through midnight streets I hear
How the yourhful harlot's curse
Blasts the new born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriate hearse.
Mortal
USA - Friday, April 12, 2002 at 14:04:02 (EDT)
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than a love--
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me--
Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our Love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels of heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Mortal
USA - Friday, April 12, 2002 at 14:02:57 (EDT)
By Vachel Lindsay
The Congo
A Study of the Negro Race
I. Their Basic Savagery
Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
# A deep rolling bass. #
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard as they were able,
Boom, boom, BOOM,
With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.
THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.
I could not turn from their revel in derision.
# More deliberate. Solemnly chanted. #
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
Then along that riverbank
A thousand miles
Tattooed cannibals danced in files;
Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song
# A rapidly piling climax of speed and racket. #
And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.
And "BLOOD" screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,
"BLOOD" screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors,
"Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,
Harry the uplands,
Steal all the cattle,
Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,
Bing.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,"
# With a philosophic pause. #
A roaring, epic, rag-time tune
From the mouth of the Congo
To the Mountains of the Moon.
Death is an Elephant,
# Shrilly and with a heavily accented metre. #
Torch-eyed and horrible,
Foam-flanked and terrible.
BOOM, steal the pygmies,
BOOM, kill the Arabs,
BOOM, kill the white men,
HOO, HOO, HOO.
# Like the wind in the chimney. #
Listen to the yell of Leopold's ghost
Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.
Hear how the demons chuckle and yell
Cutting his hands off, down in Hell.
Listen to the creepy proclamation,
Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation,
Blown past the white-ants' hill of clay,
Blown past the marsh where the butterflies play: --
"Be careful what you do,
# All the o sounds very golden. Heavy accents very heavy.
Light accents very light. Last line whispered. #
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you."
II. Their Irrepressible High Spirits
# Rather shrill and high. #
Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call
Danced the juba in their gambling-hall
And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,
And guyed the policemen and laughed them down
With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.
# Read exactly as in first section. #
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
# Lay emphasis on the delicate ideas.
Keep as light-footed as possible. #
A negro fairyland swung into view,
A minstrel river
Where dreams come true.
The ebony palace soared on high
Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.
The inlaid porches and casements shone
With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.
And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore
At the baboon butler in the agate door,
And the well-known tunes of the parrot band
That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.
# With pomposity. #
A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came
Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,
Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust
And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.
And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call
And danced the juba from wall to wall.
# With a great deliberation and ghostliness. #
But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng
With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song: --
"Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you." . . .
# With overwhelming assurance, good cheer, and pomp. #
Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes,
Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats,
Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,
And tall silk hats that were red as wine.
# With growing speed and sharply marked dance-rhythm. #
And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,
Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,
Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,
And bells on their ankles and little black feet.
And the couples railed at the chant and the frown
Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.
(O rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.)
The cake-walk royalty then began
To walk for a cake that was tall as a man
To the tune of "Boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,"
# With a touch of negro dialect,
and as rapidly as possible toward the end. #
While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,
And sang with the scalawags prancing there: --
"Walk with care, walk with care,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Beware, beware, walk with care,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay,
BOOM."
# Slow philosophic calm. #
Oh rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.
III. The Hope of their Religion
# Heavy bass. With a literal imitation
of camp-meeting racket, and trance. #
A good old negro in the slums of the town
Preached at a sister for her velvet gown.
Howled at a brother for his low-down ways,
His prowling, guzzling, sneak-thief days.
Beat on the Bible till he wore it out
Starting the jubilee revival shout.
And some had visions, as they stood on chairs,
And sang of Jacob, and the golden stairs,
And they all repented, a thousand strong
From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong
And slammed with their hymn books till they shook the room
With "glory, glory, glory,"
And "Boom, boom, BOOM."
# Exactly as in the first section.
Begin with terror and power, end with joy. #
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil
And showed the apostles with their coats of mail.
In bright white steele they were seated round
And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.
And the twelve Apostles, from their thrones on high
Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry: --
# Sung to the tune of "Hark, ten thousand
harps and voices". #
"Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle;
Never again will he hoo-doo you,
Never again will he hoo-doo you."
# With growing deliberation and joy. #
Then along that river, a thousand miles
The vine-snared trees fell down in files.
Pioneer angels cleared the way
For a Congo paradise, for babes at play,
For sacred capitals, for temples clean.
Gone were the skull-faced witch-men lean.
# In a rather high key -- as delicately as possible. #
There, where the wild ghost-gods had wailed
A million boats of the angels sailed
With oars of silver, and prows of blue
And silken pennants that the sun shone through.
'Twas a land transfigured, 'twas a new creation.
Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation
And on through the backwoods clearing flew: --
# To the tune of "Hark, ten thousand harps and voices". #
"Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Never again will he hoo-doo you."
Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men,
And only the vulture dared again
By the far, lone mountains of the moon
To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune: --
# Dying down into a penetrating, terrified whisper. #
"Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Mumbo . . . Jumbo . . . will . . . hoo-doo . . . you."
Bells on my ankles and little blake feet
USA - Friday, April 12, 2002 at 13:45:51 (EDT)
When my aspirations were more than I could handle
You led me to success with a lighted candle
When the darkness of reality closed in on me
You opened my eyes and helped me see
When I didn't know what to do
You let me put my hope in you
When I was so depressed I almost lost my mind
You showed me the wonders of life I couldn't find
You have helped me for so many years
You have been my parents, my leaders, and my peers
I owe all my happiness and success to you
Because without you what would I do
~SomeOne~ <None>
San Jose, CA USA - Tuesday, April 09, 2002 at 20:41:32 (EDT)
roses are red, money is green, i hate smelly guys, cause i am clean
? <?>
Oakland, CA USA - Tuesday, April 09, 2002 at 20:38:14 (EDT)
I like you alot, I play with you not. So take these words serious because
i am serious. It's oh so true i'm falling more and more for you.
to julie ann cantu
April lee villarreal
<babybubble@hotmail.com>
elsa, tx USA - Tuesday, March 05, 2002 at 15:01:47 (EST)
Love is like a rose
It has a sweet scent to you nose
Once you fall in
It's like a sin
You can never fall out of it
Even though you like it a bit
It happens pretty fast
But it can last and last
Love can be blind
It can take over your mind
Love can change your life
But may end up stabbing you with a knife
Shortee
<Shortballer05@hotmail.com>
Kentwood, MI USA - Monday, February 25, 2002 at 22:02:53 (EST)
Joel
All alone in
Oceans and trees,
I can no longer see
My hopes and my dreams.
Testing my strength
I fall down to my knees,
Praying to God
To carry me, Please.
I know my Angel is standing beside me
Guarding me and my life,
But regret not being beside HIM,
As HE took his last
Breath of life.
I pray to have his guidance
I pray his soul is at peace
But I know that as he was
Slipping away
There was also a death
Inside me.
Amalia C. E. Ramirez
<jestinyangel@hotmail.com>
Imperial Beach, CA USA - Tuesday, February 19, 2002 at 14:55:40 (EST)
In memory of my sister
Carol Sue Davis
June 11, 1969 to May 29, 1995
June 10, 2001
I called you in heaven
Owe my dear sister I called you in heaven for I knew that is where you would
be.
For a beautiful angel is what I always knew you would be.
So I call you in heaven for my dear sister I have some questions, could you
please answer them for me?
Are you the beautiful angel that I see in my dreams, and the bright sunlight
that gleams through my window and awakes me from my sleep?
And maybe you are the angel that touches my heart so deep, and maybe the
tears that my eyes may weep.
Could you be the angel that speaks to my heart and says we will never be
apart?
Owe my dear sister I know you are all these things and more for I feel it
deep within my heart.
Cheryl Sanders
<mandygale6@aol.com>
Smyrna, Tn USA - Sunday, February 17, 2002 at 01:19:54 (EST)
The Eyes of a Eagle
Looking through the eyes of a eagle owe what beauty do I see.
Flying high across the mountains, rivers and sea’s and the grass land
holds a beauty that a human eyes could not ever see.
With the wings beneath my wings as my soul flies
free.
With no more worry and no more fear for the beauty of the land is all I need
for my soul to fly free.
By Cheryl Sanders
Cheryl Sanders
<mandygale6@aol.com>
Smyrna, Tn USA - Sunday, February 17, 2002 at 01:14:30 (EST)
A Different Place and Time
I came to visit you at the nursing home today
As I looked into your eyes I could see your
mind was in a different place and time.
I wish I could travel with you through
the journey that lives deep within your mind
and see how life was in a different place and time.
Back to a place were there was no crime, and
people was rich even though thay owed not even a
dime.
Where everyone practiced the Golden Rule
due unto others as you would have them to
due onto you.
So when times where hard everyone joined
together to help each other through.
Where parents taught their children that
loving one other was the greatest thing they
could do.
Where men worked their land to provide
shelter and food while the wife stayed home
and sent the children to school and children
had chores they must do.
Now one might say those times where hard,
but those hard times is what made you the
Strong Women You are.
1:47 PM 6/14/01
By Cheryl Sanders
Cheryl Sanders
<Mandygale6@aol.com>
Smyrna, Tn USA - Sunday, February 17, 2002 at 01:09:29 (EST)
I do not ask to walk smooth paths
Nor bear an easy load;
I pray for strength and fortitude
to climb the rock-strewn road.
Give me such courage I can scale
the hardest peaks alone,
and transform every stumbling block
into a stepping stone.
By Gail Brook Burket
Arati
<arati@techemail.com>
London, UK - Wednesday, January 23, 2002 at 10:04:03 (EST)
ICE CREAM
By Sandra Moatz
I like
No, I love
Really, I long for
Possibly, I live for
A taste
No, a spoonful
Actually, a bowl of
Oh, just give me that carton of
Hagen Daas Vanilla Ice Cream!
Unknowen
Reno, NV USA - Monday, January 14, 2002 at 19:13:54 (EST)
The 1-L Lamma
The one-L lamma
he's a beast
The two-L llamma
hes a beast
and I bet my silk pajamma
there isn't no three-L llamma
Annoymus <Annyomus>
New Yourk, NY USA - Monday, January 14, 2002 at 19:01:36 (EST)
*Flowered Love*
Flower pedals in the wind
Dirt on my feet
Can you guess what I care to defeat?
Love is strong much stronger than I
and this I must not deny!
Can you deny your love for me?
Standing here face to face no words to come tween' us, just the sound of
us breathing.
Hearts beating together as one, hearts beating so fast as the sun rises and
it pass.
Do we dare to look into each others eyes?
Do we dare to see what lies in each others hearts, even if it is devastating
and may make us part.
My love for you is fragile yet stronger as the wind. Flowers now pass me
and I stand here wandering where to begin.
Do we dare say I love you?
Do we dare let it be?
Is it true, that you really love me?
Sometimes I wander if the day will come, you know the day where you are kneeling
before asking the question that will change our life's forever and that will
set our destiny?
That day, I hope will come, that day will be the one!
The memory of me saying........
I DO LOVE YOU, I DO WANT TO MARRY YOU 2!
That day will be the day the flower pedals start floating back around,
my feet dancing off the ground, and finally, could it be....... I finally
have defeated my defeat?
eAmberz with loveeMy love is true Baby!e
Amberz
<Eskimogirl72@aol.com>
Maxville, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 21:26:28 (EST)
Flower pedals in the wind
Dirt on my feet
Can you guess what I care to defeat?
Love is strong much stronger than I
and this I must not deny!
Can you deny your love for me?
Standing here face to face no words to come tween' us, just the sound of
us breathing.
Hearts beating together as one, hearts beating so fast as the sun rises and
it pass.
Do we dare to look into each others eyes?
Do we dare to see what lies in each others hearts, even if it is devastating
and may make us part.
My love for you is fragile yet stronger as the wind. Flowers now pass me
and I stand here wandering where to begin.
Do we dare say I love you?
Do we dare let it be?
Is it true, that you really love me?
Sometimes I wander if the day will come, you know the day where you are kneeling
before asking the question that will change our life's forever and that will
set our destiny?
That day, I hope will come, that day will be the one!
The memory of me saying........
I DO LOVE YOU, I DO WANT TO MARRY YOU 2!
That day will be the day the flower pedals start floating back around,
my feet dancing off the ground, and finally, could it be....... I finally
have defeated my defeat?
eAmberz with loveeMy love is true Baby!e
Amberz
<Eskimogirl72@aol.com>
Maxville, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 21:22:48 (EST)
Butterflys Here and There,
Flowers Scattered Everywhere,
Magic Flowing In The Air,
Our Fantasy Coming True |
------------------------e
Starlight Evenings,
Sunrise Mornings,
Flaring Through The Clouds,
Touching The Sky With Gently Care,
Wind Blowing Through Your Hair,
Our Fantasy Coming True |
e
e Always, From The Writer Paiger e
Butterfly
<KawaiiAngelBaby@MSN.com>
Middleburg, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 21:03:21 (EST)
Butterflys Here and There,
Flowers Scattered Everywhere,
Magic Flowing In The Air,
Our Fantasy Coming True |
e
Starlight Evenings,
Sunrise Mornings,
Flaring Through The Clouds,
Touching The Sky With Gently Care,
Wind Blowing Through Your Hair,
Our Fantasy Coming True |
e
e Always, From The Writer Paiger e
Butterfly
<KawaiiAngelBaby@MSN.com>
Middleburg, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 21:02:58 (EST)
I hear your voice in my ear, I feel your presents
I lie in bed wishing you were here, here to hold me so close to you, to whisper
I love you more.
I want you to be here by me so I can turn and say No way, I've liked you
longer there fore I love you more.
I miss your smile so bright with joy and your love with all it's glory.
I know we'll be together soon but I don't want to wait that long.
My love for you has grown more each day with every second and now I know
you are my true love and this is true.
We have shared so many momments in time and for this you are now mine, like
I am yours always eternity you are my eternal bliss.
Amberz
<lilmspapasmurf@yahoo.com>
Maxville, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 20:18:04 (EST)
Butterfly's would be the way to my heart, for my heart is fluttering with
love for you. These wings are faster then a speeding bullet when i'm with
you. It's like my hearts on fire when I speak to you. your touch so gentle
and light, like the wings of the butterfly our love is bright,but can be
dark with the voice of someone new yet as dull as someone old. Your face
so distint with the colors of the wings i want to but don't hold you in my
arms.
Amberz
<Eskimogirl72@aol.com>
Maxville, FL USA - Saturday, December 15, 2001 at 19:54:23 (EST)
THANK YOU!!
thank you for all the times
you've held my hand
thank you for being a loving,
caring friend
thank you for being a
listening ear
thank you for wiping away
the sad tears
thank you for being the sunshine
in my dark and lonely days
thank you for bringing the cure
to take the pain away
thank you for giving me the strength
to run this long race
thank you for coming into my life
when i need love
thank you for simply being my friend
I'll always charish our love
our bond will never end
writen by: Roderick A Green
inmate in one of Chiliicone, OH's
prison. You can email him at:
roderick@inmate.com
natasha niemier
<lalieluvzg@emailpinoy.com>
az USA - Thursday, November 08, 2001 at 10:50:15 (EST)
THANK YOU
thank you for all the times
you've held my hand
thank you for being a loving,
caring friend
thank you for being
a listening ear
thank you for wiping away
the sad tears
thank you being the sun shine
in my dark and lonely days
thank you for bringing the cure
to take the pain away
thank you for giving me the
strength to run this long race
thank you for coming into my life
when I need love
thank you for simply being my friend
I'll always charish our love
our bond will never end
writen by, Roderick A. Green
inmate in one of Chillicone, OH's
prisons. You could email him at:
roderick@inmate.com
natasha
<lalieluvzg@emailpinoy.com>
USA - Thursday, November 08, 2001 at 10:34:27 (EST)
WARPED & TWISTED
harsh words and violent blows
hidden secrets no one knows
eyes are open, hands are fisted
deep inside I'm warped and twisted
so many tricks and so many lies
too many when's and too many why's
nobody's special, nobody's gifted
I'm just me warped and twisted
sleeping awake and choking on a dream
listening louldly to a silent scream
call my mind the numbers unlisted
lost in someone so warped and twisted
on my knees alive but dead
look at my invisable blood I've bled
I'm not gone, my mind just drifed
dont expect much, I'm warped and twisted
burn out, wasted, emty and hollow
today's just yestrday's tomarrow
the sun died out the ashes shifted
I'm still here warped and twisted
natasha niemier
<lalieluvzg@emailpinoy.com>
tucson, az USA - Thursday, November 08, 2001 at 10:19:43 (EST)
The Music in the Rain
When the air grows thick and shadows fade,
Skies turn colors of gray and jade,
Close your eyes and open your heart
To hear the Music in the Rain.
Magical droplets fall gently down,
Lightly splashing melodies on the ground.
The pitter-patter of tiny sprinkles
Make Music in the Rain.
When you feel like you just can't go on,
When the light you once saw is somehow gone,
Stretch out your arms toward the sky,
To feel the Music in the Rain.
Then You are filled with hope, refreshed and renewed,
Your dream is back and alive in you,
You are revived and feel that joy again...
You've heard the Music in the Rain
~Amber Renee Thompson
Anonymous Coward
USA - Thursday, November 01, 2001 at 07:36:27 (EST)
How do you live your dash?
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on his tombstone
From the beginning to the end.
He noted that first came his date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash (-) between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
That he spent alive on earth
And now only those who loved him
Know what that little line is worth.
Fore it matters not how much we own:
The cars; the house; the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard,
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a while.
So when your eulogy’s being read
With your life’s actions to rehash,
Would you be proud of the things they’d say
About how you spent your dash?
Author Unknown.
Joff Cooke
<jcooke@bournemouth.ac.uk>
Bournemouth, UK - Wednesday, October 10, 2001 at 09:00:59 (EDT)
DEVOTION
Every day you are to me.
My heart,my love,my destiny.
At every pace of my hearts beat.
I devote to you,my love,my sweet.
Doane
<ewyngard@sprint.ca>
mississauga, canada - Thursday, October 04, 2001 at 10:25:41 (EDT)
CHERRY FLAVOURED LIPS
I see your beauty, a vision clear.
Amongst the roses, a memory dear.
I feel the urge to touch your hair.
While your perfume lingers in the air.
Haunted by your cherry flavoured lips.
Still I try to understand.
Why you make me feel so grand.
From memories cup, I take sips.
of your cherry flavoured lips.
Doane
<ewyngard@sprint.ca>
mississauga, canada - Thursday, October 04, 2001 at 10:22:06 (EDT)
Memories I cherish, like when we first met..
Places we drove to, I'll never forget...
The first time we kissed, eyes closed, we felt sure ?..
The fact we re-did it, eyes opened but more.
A lifetime with you hon, a dream of my life.
Never fulfilled it, I just filled it with strife,
I fractured it's beauty, with my bullheadedness,
I am the one that's created this mess.
I can never show you a life spent with me,
I can never stop wishing that it came to be,
I move with you in me, carry you everywhere,
Spiritually with me, but really not there.
Times when I wake, I look for you there,
Laying beside me, me touching your hair,
I try not to wake you as I kiss your face,
And whisper I love you, in our special place.
I know I am dreaming, you're really not there..
But just for those seconds, I feel you - I swear !
My new day, it opens, I feel it most then
Now I'm awake and alone once again.
Where do you keep it, My heart that you own,?
Do you protect it, as well as your own ?
Is it looked after, like I cherish yours ?
How do you stem, the love that it pours ?
My feelings all tell me, that we'll never be..
But that doesn't stop me wanting to see..
A time when you're happy and in love with life..
And the man who shares it with you as his wife.
I've wished for too long, that man would be me..
And for a brief moment, I felt it could be,
But those dreams are dying, as we drift apart,
But I know for a fact You'll take care of my heart.
Should you ever need me, rub the heart with your hand...
I will then find you, wherever you land...
Never removing my promise to you...
I'll love you forever, forever I do !
Andy Moss
Canada - Wednesday, September 19, 2001 at 10:07:39 (EDT)
OLD AGE
The women tell me everyday,that all my bloom has passed away.
Behold,the pretty wantos cry,
Behold this mirror with a sigh.
The locks upon thy brow are few,and like the rest they are withering too.
Whether decline has thinned my hair I'm sure I didn't know nor care.
But I know and this I feel, as onward to the tomb still.
That still as death approaches nearer,
the joys of life are sweeter, dearer.
And had I, but an hour to live,
That little hour to bliss I'll give..........
JACHELO TANG-O
<excelsiorjaylo@YAHOO.COM
>
PHILIPPINES, USA - Monday, September 03, 2001 at 10:07:05 (EDT)
WHY SO PALE AND WAN?
Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Prithee, why so pale?
Why so dull and mute, young sinner
Prithee, why so mute?
Will, when speaking well can't win her,
Saying nothing do it?
Prithee, why so mute?
Quit, quit for shame! This will not move;
This cannot take her.
If of herself she will not love,
Nothing can make her.
The devil take her!
(John Suckling 1609-1642)
Dione Maddern
Brisbane, Qld Australia - Wednesday, August 15, 2001 at 02:34:26 (EDT)
Poems Full of life
Will never die,
he who writes
poems, that are
full of life.
He senses the pulse
of life in his poems.
He holds the universe
by his fingers.
He feels that
feelings,ideas
and people
are under the
mercy of his pen.
He wont go away,
knowing that
not all that glitters
is pure gold,
Knowing that the dent
in his pain,
is a straight line
comparing to
a non poet’s joy.
Don’t hide your
new thoughts,
they are his memories.
His unwritten words,
are scattered people
with no land.
In his poems,
they shell
find their countries.
His begging brain is
living off his curiosity.
A playing lute,
this is his life,
where his tears
are the fingers.
The poet’s wealth
of wisdom will prevail.
A maverick poet
with a fluent silence,
when people jargon
with their own names.
The poet’s voice
will never jade,
the living sound
of conscious.
The limpid light
of a poet’s soul,
is a javelin thrown
at the face of time
The smile of his poems
on a ageless face,
the firstborn of honesty ,
the permanent member
of the cynic.
Empathy is his religion,
but his poems have
their own minds.
The image of truth,
just like the truth
wonderfully shines, where
the absolute truth, is
a poet choosing
not to lie.
S.S.A
<jadelks@earthlink.net>
San francisco, CA USA - Wednesday, August 01, 2001 at 11:15:12 (EDT)
To My Granddaughter
What can I wish you, little one, to make your life worthwhile
A summer's day with butterflies, an Angel’s gentle smile
A new-found friend to share your toys and fun-filled days galore
A birthday treat with funny clowns, balloons and so much more
A good night kiss to calm your fears when all your playtime ís done
Tiny fingers clasped in prayer and morning’s golden sun
Cows that moo and dolls that cry and teddy bears that speak
Candy Land and pick-up sticks and little balls that squeak
The ice cream truck's melodic chimes, enticing you with treats
Popsicles running down your cheeks, delicious sticky treats
A rainbow's magic colors to enchant you after rain
A puddle to reflect your face and make you laugh again
All this and my undying love to last you through the years
My wish I give you for all time, much laughter and few tears
A pocketful of colored dreams --sparkling clean and bright
Stars to shine when darkness comes to brighten up your night
Loved ones to surround you with cloaks of love and laughter
This special wish I give to you for now and ever after.
This poem was written for some very special children
--the Grandchildren who touch our lives and our hearts
Kacey
<shanny2@hotmail.com>
Gaithersburg, USA - Tuesday, July 31, 2001 at 20:05:55 (EDT)
My Symphony
To live content with small means
To seek elegance rather than luxury
To be worthy, not respectable
And wealthy, not rich;
To study hard, think quietly
Talk gently, act frankly
To listen to stars and birds,
To babes and sages,
With an open heart;
To hear all cheerfully
Do all bravely
Await occasions, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious
Grow up through the commonplace
This is to be my symphony.
William Henry Channing
Teresa
<teresa3607@yahoo.com>
DeRidder, LA USA - Sunday, July 29, 2001 at 00:41:51 (EDT)
Time
Where does each day go?
So fast, like a mountain stream
So past, like a distant dream;
So lost, before we know;
So time seems to flow.
Lord, time is so precious
I need time to get things right,
To sort myself out, to understand,
To get it all together, to see your hand.
Yet I start here, here and now,
This very moment, little by little,
Stone by stone, as a wall is laid.
So thought by thought my prayer is prayed,
And prayer by prayer my hope is made.
Lord, please give me the gift of time, give me more time.
A.D.
Northridge, CA USA - Friday, July 20, 2001 at 23:42:47 (EDT)
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